


I'm (not) Okay

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Logan and Brock Verse, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's favourite lie is "I'm okay."</p><p> </p><p>Or,</p><p> </p><p>Five times Castiel lied and one he didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm (not) Okay

"Is everything okay, Castiel?"

She’s just being polite, she’s not actually interested in the answer. 

Castiel hates teachers, always has. He’s got many reasons to hate them but he’s never said any of them out loud. It’s not like anyone would do anything to make it better anyways, so he just keeps quiet and tries to get through the day alive. His teachers have always been the kind that don’t give a crap about kids or teaching or anything but their salaries. The kind of teachers that expect you to treat them like gods, to act like a slave, to never question what they say. To them, if you don’t have perfect grades, you’re just another brainless monkey to complain about when they get home. 

Castiel is standing at the door, trying not to clench his fists too much. His ribs hurt and he thinks he won’t be able to stand on his feet for much longer. 

It’s not like Ms Boecher doesn’t know he gets beaten up in the halls by his fellow students. She knows, everyone knows. They notice everything. It’s just that everyone prefers to act like they don’t. It’s much easier that way. He likes it better that way.

He doesn’t protest, he doesn’t argue, he doesn’t fight back. He just goes with it. At least that way he knows for sure he’ll get home alive. Just because sending Castiel to the hospital would mean the bullies would have to find another easy target, and that would be too much trouble to even bother. So they just leave him lying on the floor, trying so hard not to cry, not to think of the unbearable pain in his stomach. He waits until there’s no one left in the halls and he gets up, walks to the bathrooms supporting his weight on the walls and the lockers and cleans himself up the best he can so he can get to his next class without attracting unwanted attention.

That’s his life, he’s accepted it and he’s used to his routine. So he doesn’t complain. _Just two more years_ , he tells himself. And that seems enough.

So when Ms Boecher or any other teacher ask him if everything is okay, he just turns around and answers with his favourite lie before walking away.

"I’m okay."

And they believe him. It’s easier that way.

— — — —

"You okay, little bro?"

He loves Gabriel, he really does. Gabriel is there for him most of the time. And he’s grateful for that. He used to defend him and keep the bullies at bay. He only got beaten up like twice a week, when Gabriel had to work at Balthazar's music shop and couldn’t get there in time to save him from the assholes on the lacrosse team.

But that was last year. This year Gabriel is away at college and he only comes home for the holidays. He won’t be home on summer, though. He’s been planning a road trip with his friends for months now. Castiel is not selfish enough to ask him to stay with him, not even just a week.

He knows Gabriel cares about him, he knows his brother would do anything for him. No matter how many times Gabriel pranks him or how many times he calls him “annoying lil’ shit", he knows he loves him the most.

That’s why he doesn’t want to tell him that he vomited blood last night after an unfortunate encounter on the street with Alastair, the new captain of the lacrosse team. That’s why he doesn’t want him to know he still doesn’t have any friends. That’s why he doesn’t want him to know how bad things really are at the moment.

So he does what he does best. He lies. Because he knows Gabriel respects him enough not to push it, not to pester him too much about it. He trusts him not to interfere.

"I’m okay, Gabe."

And Gabriel knows he’s lying, and he knows Gabriel knows he’s lying. But his older brother doesn’t say anything more as he smiles sadly at him, ruffles his hair affectively and walks out of his room to order pizza with Castiel’s favourite toppings, pepperoni and zucchini.

— — — —

"James."

"Yes, father?" Castiel pokes his head through the door to his father’s office. It’s not often his father is at home, and Castiel is lucky if he gets to talk to him for more than ten minutes each month.

"Come in. We need to have a little chat." His voice sounds as expressionless as always. Castiel walks in, closing the door behind him quietly, and sits in front of him. The chair feels uncomfortable under him. Castiel fidgets with the hem of his shirt while his father types something away on his expensive computer. The silence is prolonged once he’s finished typing and finally looks at Castiel with an inscrutable face. Castiel just sits there biting the inside of his cheek. “James, I demand you tell me what happened to you."

 _Fuck_ , he curses inwardly, pursing his lips and ignoring the pain that causes. His lip is still split, not yet completely healed, and there’s a very visible bruise on his left cheekbone.

"Uh." He starts. “I- I fell down the stairs. At school. I tripped. I will be more careful next time, father." He explains quickly, tripping slightly over his own words.

"Are you lying to me, James?"

James is his second name. His father never liked his first name. His mom named him Castiel, like the angel, because she said he was her little miracle, the light of her day. He liked Castiel way better than ‘James’. His father never once had called him Castiel, and when mom died when he was six, his father stopped talking to him almost completely.

When mom was alive, father would sit with him and Gabriel on the couch and watch movies or football matches. When mom was alive, father would make an effort to give a shit about his sons. But that was a long time ago, and Castiel was over it by the time he was nine.

"No, father. It’s the truth. I’m okay."

His father nods once and goes back to work. Castiel sits there for a moment longer, listening to the sound of typing on the keyboard, before getting up and walking out of the sad office.

"Stop getting in trouble, James. No university is interested in troublemakers. You hear me?"

Castiel swallows and closes his eyes, back still turned to the man. “Yes, father."

"Good."

— — — —

"Jimmy?"

He turns around to Alfie’s curious voice filled with worry. Alfie smiles toothily at a customer and hands her a cup of black coffee before returning to Castiel, his expression changing to match his tone. Worried. Castiel smiles reassuringly at him.

"You know you can ask me anything, Alfie."

The kid is so shy and always tries not to upset anyone. Castiel considers him a friend, almost. They go to the same school, but they don’t have any classes together, so they don’t really see each other outside of work. He doubts Alfie knows he gets bullied.

Castiel is glad he shares his shifts with Alfie, and not Ruby or Meg. He wouldn’t appreciate spending all his weekends working next to any of the girls, mocking him and talking on the phone all the time. Meg and Ruby are on their senior year and Castiel thinks they’re together. They make out on the halls sometimes.

Alfie taps his fingers on the counter and doesn’t look at him when he talks. “I don’t want to be nosy, Jimmy. I’m just worried, you know? It’s just- You seem to be really sad lately and- You don’t have to tell me why, I mean, it’s none of my business. And I know I can’t help, but I guess it would make you feel better if you told me and—"

"It’s okay, Alfie. I’m okay. Just tired, too much homework." Castiel smiles his most sincere smile and after a moment Alfie smiles back at him, all innocence and optimism.

"You don’t know how glad I am to hear that!" And then he begins reciting a list of all the papers he has to write and all the books he has to read and complains about how it is too much and Castiel agrees.

— — — —

"Cassie! Long time no see!"

Castiel notices a little too late that he’s walked right past his brother’s friend’s music shop. He tries to ignore Balthazar and his stupid nicknames, but moments later there’s a hand on his shoulder and a body walking next to him.

"My name is _Castiel_." He grunts. Balthazar ignores him.

"So Cassie, haven’t seen you in almost a month. How are you doing?"

Castiel finds everything about Balthazar annoying. His british accent, his douchebag attitude and his expensive V-neck shirts. He never cares about anything and he doesn't seem to realise there are consequences to his actions. He is too carefree for Castiel's liking. Pretty much like his brother.

Balthazar isn’t a bad person. Hell, he even defended Castiel a couple of times while he was still on high school. You could even say they’re _friends_ , but Castiel still finds him very very annoying. 

"Don’t ignore me, Cassie." He whines. “I missed you." Balthazar hugs him from behind and lifts him a few inches from the ground. Castiel’s eyes widen in panic.

"Put me down, Balthazar, oh my God, put me down." Balthazar puts him down, mumbling something that sounds like ‘Fine, you grumpy’. When his feet are back on the pavement, he turns around with a frown on his face and a little pout. After a moment of staring at each other, they both chuckle. “I missed you, too, Balth. And I’m doing fine."

"You sure you’re fine, Cassie? ‘Cause your eye looks suspiciously purple." Castiel sighs. _Of course he had to ask_. “Those assholes still picking on you?"

"No, Balth. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have homework to do. I must go."

"Castiel." He sounds serious and it surprises him just a bit. “If you ever need anything, I’m here for you."

Castiel sighs. “I’m okay, B—."

"I mean it." The blonde insists.

"I know." Castiel hesitates a couple of seconds before adding, “thank you". He blushes a little, too.

Balthazar smiles and ruffles his hair, just like Gabriel does, and walks back to his beloved music shop.

— — — —

"Son of a bitch!"

The rough and deep voice coming from the door of the bathroom startles Castiel. He turns around quickly, a frightened expression on his face. He tenses up even more when the guy takes a few tentative steps towards him. Castiel tries not to move. _Maybe if he thinks I’m dead he’ll go away_ , he thinks. He deadpans.

"Gordon did that t’you?" The guy questions. Castiel thinks he’s seen him around with the lacrosse team. He nods slowly. “Fuck!"

"I’m used to it." Castiel didn’t think he could find his voice, but he does. And he lies. He can’t trust one of Gordon’s friends. “It’s okay. I’m—"

"No, Cas. You’re _not_ okay."

And something inside Castiel’s stomach turns upside down at the nickname. He is surprised, too. No one’s ever told him that. No one’s ever cared enough to tell him that he’s not, in fact, okay. He feels butterflies and the pain on his face disappears. His lungs don’t feel like burning anymore. He opens his mouth but closes it again after a few moments when he realises nothing is coming out.

He feels bad because he doesn’t know the guy’s name. Suddenly, there’s something cold against his cheek. Castiel closes his eyes. It makes the pain go away. There are hands on his face, one of them pressing a cold can of Coke against his bruised cheek.

"I’m sorry, man. I thought he would stop after I told him to stop picking on you. I’m so sorry." He sounds desperate for forgiveness. Castiel’s stomach feels funny again. It makes him feel happy and he just doesn’t want it to ever end. “The- The name’s Dean, by the way."

His eyes open at that. Blue orbs stare at green ones. “Hello, Dean." He grins weakly. It makes Dean laugh, but not in a mean way. In a good way.

They look at each other for what feels like forever. Castiel chewing on his lower lip, his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides. Dean’s eyes are big and full of questions and Castiel just wants to answer them all and he doesn’t know why he feels like that, he just does. He’s never believed in love at first sight, but he thinks the annoying feeling in his tummy could develop into something like love. 

He can’t believe how fucking ridiculous he feels right now after thinking that.

Suddenly, the hands on his face are pulling back and the can of Coke is being placed on the sink. The two teenagers stay quiet, the silence comfortable. Dean breaks it.

"You okay, Cas?" And the question sounds so real now. Like all the times he’s been asked the same thing didn’t mean anything. Like this is the only time his answer really matters.

"I am now."

And Dean smiles brightly at him and he smiles back and finally, _finally_ , he isn’t lying.

He is okay.


End file.
